


We're Far from the Shallow Now

by elphaba_swan



Series: Powerful with a Little Bit of Tender [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphaba_swan/pseuds/elphaba_swan
Summary: Set in the same universe as "Walk on Water", Harry uploads a new video - one where he's doing Uma's makeup.“This would be a lot easier if you ever applied ChapStick—”“—I hope you die—”“—Seriously, I will buy you some ChapStick—”“This camera is not going to be able to protect you from my wrath—”





	We're Far from the Shallow Now

**Author's Note:**

> I took the SAT for the last time yesterday, and in order to celebrate, I asked for prompt ideas on Tumblr, since I haven't had much time to free-write lately and I'm the kind of freak who writes for fun. The lovely jojo_sain suggested the "Boyfriend does my makeup" tag and so this is the result! The title comes from "Shallow" by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, from "A Star is Born"

“What’s up, Interwebs?” Harry flashes a smile at the camera and Uma tries to smile as well, but she has a feeling she just looks like she has a case of resting bitch face. “I’m Harry Hook from Skulduggery Road, and the stunningly gorgeous person next to me is Uma Triskelion. For weeks now, she has been begging me to do her makeup—”

“That is _not_ true—” Uma protests, and Harry laughs and puts his arm around her, drawing her closer.

“Fine, _I’ve_ been begging her to let me do her makeup and after many weeks and many bribes, I have finally worn her down!”

“I’m already regretting this.” Uma mumbles, but Harry just gives her a cheery grin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to make you look magical!”

“Please save me,” Uma whispers urgently at the camera.

“Alright, so Uma isn’t allowed to look at herself or give me any help, but that’s fine, since I won’t need any help anyways—”

“Famous last words,” Uma quips, tying back her braids and facing Harry head-on.

“I’m going to ignore that, and we’re just going to get straight into it.” Harry opens her makeup drawer and immediately makes a face. “What the hell? It’s like a miniature Sephora in here!”

“That’s not even a little bit true, I don’t even have that much makeup,” Uma argues, tilting the camera down to pan over her makeup collection. “And how do you know what Sephora is?”

“It’s that store where you go inside, look at the makeup for twenty minutes, and then walk out without buying anything.”

“How dare you expose me on camera?”

“It’s okay love, everyone already knows you’re cheap,” Harry says absently, then pulls out her bottle of foundation. “Okay, I’m going to use the Fenty foundation by Beyoncé—”

“ _Rihanna_ —”

“That’s what I said, Fenty by Rihanna, and so since it has this little nozzle, I’m just going to spray it all over her face—”

Uma holds up a warning hand. “If you spray that on my face, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

“Kidding, darling, kidding. No, I’m going to use this brush that she has obviously never cleaned—”

“Stop exposing me!”

“I’m going to apply it in little dots all around her face and make it look like she has some sort of weird chicken pox, at which point I’m going to smear it all over her.”

“That’s what he said,” Uma mumbles as Harry applies the foundation on her like he’s painting a house.

“Uma, please. Set an example.”

“No.”

“I’m also going to use this powder thing to try and cover up her unibrow—”

“Screw _you_ —”

Harry dots the powder on her face, and Uma twists the rings on her fingers. She really hates not being able to look at a mirror to see what he’s doing.

Now don’t get her wrong. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him; it’s that she doesn’t trust him with her makeup. (See? She’s not a monster!)

“Now, I’m going to draw in her eyebrows with this black crayon that I found—” Harry holds up the pencil and Uma immediately panics because that is her _eyeliner_ pencil, but then he looks closely at it and tosses it back in the drawer. “Never mind, that was eyeliner and that comes later—”

Uma very nearly slumps back on the couch in relief, but she can’t, because Harry is already filling in her brows.

“This is really annoying,” Harry comments.

“You don’t have to do this every morning.”

“That’s fair. I’m going to use this tiny hairbrush to brush her nose hair—”

Uma swats at him and Harry laughs.

“Next, we’re going to dab some of this concealer onto the bags under her eyes—”

“Make me look young again, darling,” Uma whispers in an old-lady voice and smirks when Harry cringes in horror. “I want to look like a tight sixty-five again.”

“I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen,” Harry informs her haughtily, and she winks at the camera as he rifles through her drawer. “I’m going to open this up and hope it’s the eyeshadow – nope, this is full of clown makeup—”

“That’s my stage makeup!”

“—We’re not going for the clown look today so – here we go, I found it.” Harry pops open the lid to the palette and reveals it to the camera with a flourish. “I’m going to use this sparkly brown one, because that’s the one she uses the most and frankly, I’m too afraid to touch the other ones—”

“I’ve trained you so well,” Uma says adoringly, and Harry makes a face at her before ordering her to close her eyes.

She can feel her eyelids trembling under the soft pressure of the brush and she can’t resist opening her eyes a little bit. Harry has a look of utter concentration on his face: his eyes are completely focused on her and the expression on his face is so intent that she wants to lean forward and—

“Okay, I screwed up, but that’s okay, because I’m just going to apply some more and hope it just resolves itself—”

“What did you do?” Uma asks, opening her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. Just don’t blink too much—”

“You know what, I’m not even going to ask,” Uma sighs. “You do you.”

“Thanks, I will.” Harry pulls out her eyeliner pencil and liquid eyeliner and gives her an evil smile. “Shall we go for regular or winged liner?”

Images of her eyes smudged to high heavens like Harry’s panda eyes after his performances flash in her mind, but she forces herself to not look horrified and shrug casually. “Whatever you want, baby. This is your show.”

“In that case, I’m going to really challenge myself and try to perfect those wings.” Harry unscrews the top of her liquid eyeliner and motions for her to close her eyes.

The brush spreads a cold line across her eyelid while Harry narrates to the camera. “Now, Uma’s thing is that she only ever wears winged liner, so there’s a lot of pressure on me to perfect this look, since this _is_ her natural look. She refuses to have regular lines around her eyes. Only wings will do for her.”

His hand is pressing up against her cheek and even though she is trying to stay as still as possible, she can still feel that his movements are unsteady: the brush is tracing a jagged pattern.

After a minute, he takes his hand off of her face and Uma opens her eyes to see Harry looking vaguely panic-stricken.

“What?”

“I’m not going to lie, you kind of have a Cleopatra situation going on darling,” Harry says, leaning forward and studying her face.

“Oh shit, really?” Uma asks, a grin twitching up the sides her mouth despite herself.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Only a little,” she teases, and he gives her a fake-sad look. “Don’t be sad, it takes years to learn the skill of the winged liner.”

“How long did it take you?”

This time, Uma definitely can’t contain her smile. “Ten minutes of practice in tenth grade.”

“Showoff,” Harry mutters, brandishing the mascara. “Open up big and wide for me, love.”

“Open up big and wide for me, title of your sex tape.”

“ . . . Have you been binge-watching Brooklyn Nine Nine without me?!”

“I’m sorry! It was a moment of weakness!”

“That is so not alright,” Harry complains, “I waited until you came home to binge-watch Downton Abbey, why couldn’t you do the same?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Uma tries to give him a puppy look from under her lashes, which was difficult, since Harry was currently applying mascara to them. “Can you forgive me?”

Harry heaves a giant sigh. “I’m saying yes, but only because the camera is on.”

Uma sniggers and Harry smirks. “Alright, your lashes are looking very . . .” he checks the tube and Uma laughs again. “Elongated and voluminous.” He turns to face the camera and says in a confidential voice, “This is a good thing, since I really didn’t want to have to call and file a complaint if they didn’t do exactly what they promised on the label.”

“Look at you, pretending you know how to dial a phone!”

Harry bursts out laughing. “What do you even mean by that?”

“I don’t know,” Uma admits. “It felt right at the time though.”

“Sure, Jan.” Harry turns towards the camera and mouths, _she’s crazy_.

Uma gives him an unimpressed look but just asks, “Do you want lipstick, matte, or gloss?”

Harry’s eyes light up. “I have options?”

In answer, Uma presents him with her tray of lip products.

Harry gleefully goes through the tray, his expression not unlike that of a kid in a candy store, and Uma can practically _feel_ the sap dripping from her face. But it’s not her fault! How is she supposed to resist him when he looks so adorable?

Lipstick clutched in hand, Harry turns towards her. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Uma allows her lips to part slightly and he starts to gently swipe the lipstick onto her mouth.

“This would be a lot easier if you ever applied ChapStick—”

“—I hope you _die_ —”

“—Seriously, I will buy you some ChapStick—”

“This camera is not going to be able to protect you from my wrath—”

“Uma, close your mouth! You’re screwing up my process!”

In response, she cuts daggers at him with her eyes while he finishes up with her lips.

“Done!” Harry grabs her face and turns it towards the camera. “Here is the final look, and I don’t know about you guys, but I am pretty proud of myself for this one. Her lipstick doesn’t clash with her hair, I didn’t use her eyeshadow for blush . . .” he tilts her head a little, angling it towards the camera. “I didn’t want to look like a moron by not knowing how to apply highlighter and blush, so I just pretended that they didn’t exist. I mostly left her chin hair alone, but she should probably do something about that—”

“I deeply resent you,” Uma informs him, and he kisses her cheek, pulling her into his lap.

“Ready to see the final look?”

“No, give me a second to prepare.”

“Too late,” Harry unceremoniously shoves a hand mirror in her face.

“Oh my God,” is all she can get out as she studies all the angles of her face. Her lips shimmer with a cerise gleam and her skin looks remarkably even. Her eyebrows are a bit messy and her eyeliner extends to nearly her temple, but overall, she looks pretty okay.

“Honestly, you did better than I thought you would,” Uma muses, which makes Harry grin victoriously at the camera. “You weren’t kidding about that Cleopatra eyeliner though, god _damn_ that is long!”

“Yeah, I was not over-exaggerating,” Harry leans into her shoulder, pressing his face against her black hoodie (incidentally, one that belongs to him). “But did I do a good job?”

Instead of answering, Uma leans forward and kisses him, (lightly, so she doesn’t get her lipstick on his face).

When she pulls back, Harry grins at her. “I’m going to take that as a yes?”

“Take it however you like,” she tells him, then addresses the camera. “Remember to like and subscribe, and tune in next week when Harry strips naked for charity!”

“Wait, _what_ —”

Harry’s indignant protest is cut short as Uma leans forward and stops the camera, turning back to him with a smirk.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Harry warns, but his fingers are inching under her hoodie and up her ribs, so she isn’t too worried.

“If I was at a club and you saw me like this across the room, would you get with me?”

“Uma darling, I would get with you even without a stitch of makeup on,” he replies, tone utterly serious, and her heart does that stupid fluttery thing it does when he says meaningful shit all serious-like, so she leans in and kisses him deeply, not caring if she smudges her lipstick on his mouth this time.

Sure enough, when she pulls back, cerise lipstick smears his lips and there is a slightly dazed look in his eyes. Grinning to herself, she stands up and starts to walk to the bathroom.

“Come on,” she calls. “Let’s get this makeup off me and really test this theory about you getting with me when I have no makeup on.”

Harry is up and off the couch before she finishes her sentence.


End file.
